Crash Course
by PhantomPhan
Summary: Gosalyn has her permit and it's up to Drake for driving lessons. Let the fun begin.


Disclaimer:  The characters aren't mine.  

This little hunk o' fluff has absolutely nothing to do with "When You Least Expect It" whatsoever.  It's just a little story about good old Drake teaching his daughter how to drive, inspired by a little escapade I had over the weekend.  Enjoy.

*~*~*~*

"Gimme the keys Dad."

The 16-year-old Gosalyn Mallard attempted to wrench the car keys from her father's hand.

"Dad, how am I supposed ta drive without the keys?"

"Exactly," came Drake Mallard's strained response.

The redhead scowled with irritation, but then brightened as the proverbial light bulb clicked on.

"Look!" she cried, pointing over Drake's shoulder, "The Muddlefoots!  It's a bloody massacre!"

The mallard rolled his eyes.

"If you think I'd fall for – " 

"Yoink!"

Gosalyn snatched the keys from her father with a triumphant jingle.  She grinned and strolled casually to the worn blue station wagon.  Drake's brow furrowed as he tried to understand how she managed to steal the keys right out from under his beak, then sighed with defeat and trudged to the passenger side.

Gosalyn slid awkwardly into the driver's seat.

"Man this wheel is really annoying."

Drake faced the heavens and muttered a quick prayer.  He plopped into his respective seat.

The key was in the ignition and the car roared to life.

"Okay, foot on the brake, put it in reverse, blah blah blah," Gosalyn mumbled to herself.

"No, not 'blah blah blah.'  It's _seatbelt seatbelt seatbelt_," Drake corrected sternly.

Gosalyn fastened her seatbelt and pumped the gas, but the car refused to budge.

"Hey, what's the deal?" she seethed.

"Gee, whatever could it be?  Is it the parking brake, perhaps?" Drake drawled.

"I knew that."

The redhead released the brake and proceeded to back out of the short driveway like a bat out of hell.

"GOSALYN!  THIS IS OUR DRIVEWAY!   NOT THE INDIANNAPOLIS!" Drake shrieked.

Gosalyn hit the brake, causing Drake's skull to thud against the headrest.  He rubbed the back of his head irritably, glaring at his daughter.

"Won't happen again!" she said cheerily.

*~*~*~*

"Okay Gos, it's always important on these back roads to watch out for young children.  You never know when one might just pop up.  Always be aware of your surroundings.  Oh, you can go a little faster by the way."

"Okay!"

"Not that fast!"

"Okay…"

"Well, a little faster than that."

"Okay!"

"Slow down, slow down!"

"Jeez Pop, make up your mind."

"H'oh boy."

Gosalyn clutched the wheel nonchalantly as they drifted past the suburban houses.

"Uh Gos watch out for that squirrel."

"What squirrel?"

_THUNK!_

"Oh, heh heh, _that_ squirrel."

*~*~*~*

"All right Gos, it's always vital on these city roads to – well, to stay on your side of the road for one thing."

"Whoops."

"As I was saying, it's always vital to be aware of other vehicles."

As if on cue, a black jeep cut out in front of them.

"Hey, get off the road ya big dooshbag!" Gosalyn bellowed, shaking her fist.

Drake narrowed his eyes at her.

"Gosalyn Mallard, watch your language – and that stop sign!"

Gosalyn drove past the bright red sign and through the intersection.  Drake's right hand shot to the dashboard while the other covered his eyes.  A few seconds later he dared a peek through his fingers.

"See Dad, we're still alive," Gosalyn informed.

Drake shook his head, wondering if he'd felt safer last night with Ammonia Pine trying to drown him in Windex.

*~*~*~*

"The daring but daft dad dabbles with death as he designates his daughter to the driver's seat."

"Have you been thinking of that the whole trip?"

Drake didn't answer.

They cruised the streets of St. Canard a while longer until they approached the corner drugstore.

"Okay, pull in here, I've got to pick up some more matches.  We're out again, _how_ exactly I don't know," Drake mused.

Gosalyn whistled innocently.

She made an unnecessarily wide turn and entered the parking lot.  Drake pointed to the space in the back corner.

"There, there's no one there you can possibly maim, go ahead and park.  See that fence at the end of the space?  Use it as a guide so you know when to stop."

"No problem," Gosalyn answered and spun the wheel wildly.

The momentum threw Drake back against his seat.  His eyes widened.

"Gos slow down, you're heading very fast to a small amount of space!"

"Uh oh!"

"Stop!  STO-HA-HOP!  Hit the brakes!"

Gosalyn slammed her foot down.

_CRUNCH!_

For a few seconds there was stunned silence.  Finally Drake broke it.

"Well, that would have been great, had it been the right pedal," he muttered.

Gosalyn slowly lifted her foot from the gas pedal and pried her fingers from the wheel.  She turned to her father with the classic deer in the headlights look and spurted, "I'm so sorry I'll pay for it sorta I'll never do it again please don't take away my permit I'm so sorry!"

Drake momentarily gazed at the interesting way the fence post had wedged itself into the grill of the car, then turned to Gosalyn.  The sight of her shocked face calmed him and he sighed. 

"Calm down sweetie.  At least no one was hurt.  And now we know why we have things like driver's permits, and safety belts, and air bags, and insurance…"

"Wait'll we tell Lauchpad," Gosalyn commented.

"Yeah, he'll be so proud," Drake said with a grin.

THE END 

NOTE:  Everything that takes place in this story is (I am embarrassed to admit) based on actual events.  Drivers beware:  I've got my permit and I'm not afraid to use it.


End file.
